


XVII. Copycat and the Bomb

by BubblyWashingMachine



Series: Every Little Hurt Counts [febuwhump 2021] [17]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Vanya Hargreeves, Banter, Battlefield, Bullet wound, Explosions, FebuWhump2021, Febuwhump, Field Surgery, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Hair Dyeing, Sibling Love, Sibling Rivalry, Sister-Sister Relationship, Stitches, febuwhumpday17, prompt was, vanya has very strong little sister energy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:34:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29511171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BubblyWashingMachine/pseuds/BubblyWashingMachine
Summary: “Sorry,” Vanya says, reluctantly peeling her hand away from the wound and wincing. “I didn’t want to worry you.”“Yeah, you say that, but then you go and pull stuff like this,” Lila groans, leaning forward to examine the injury, and Vanya smiles – even as she complains, her sister’s still looking out for her. “It’s gonna need a couple stitches at least.” She purses her lips. “You’re such a disaster magnet, Van. When did you even manage to get hit?”“Hmm, let me think. Sometime in between arriving in the active war zone, and running across an active battlefield—”“This is why you’re the sidekick.”...An exploration of an alternate universe where the Handler has TWO illegally-acquired daughters - Lila and Vanya. Instead of having her gift taken from her, Vanya is taught to embrace it, and wield it with deadly accuracy as both girls are being trained as child assassins rather than superheroes. But Lila and Vanya are sisters before anything else.
Relationships: Vanya Hargreeves & Lila Pitts
Series: Every Little Hurt Counts [febuwhump 2021] [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137428
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	XVII. Copycat and the Bomb

**Author's Note:**

> Hello welcome to day 17 of the most exhausting month of my life
> 
> today we have a very fun, very silly, wholesome story about vanya and lila being sisters. In this AU we can assume that the Handler adopted/abducted baby Vanya when she was very small just like she did with Lila - this is not explained and isn't really relevant to the story being told in this fic. And I also couldn't re-watch any of Lila's scenes because my mother was using the Netflix account which means i am basing this entirely on my foggy memory of the 1 time I've seen season 2 JUST DON'T THINK ABOUT IT TOO HARD.   
> For unexplained reasons, Lila is two years older than vanya in this fic - this, I have decided, is because of time travel and does not matter. Really I just wanted little sister (14 year old) vanya and her tired (16 year old) teen sister lila being snarky. this is so FUN i love it.
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTE: vanya has developed a british accent from living with lila HENCE! you are legally obligated to read ALL their dialogue as british hahha thank you
> 
> enjoy!!

It was meant to be a pretty simple plan; they get dropped into the field just when the peace treaty is about to be signed, and they blow up a couple buildings, make it confusing enough that both sides will think the other was responsible, and voila: the peace treaty’s off. Easy as pie; then they get to go home.

_Two buildings down, one to go,_ Vanya reminds herself, ducking low and jogging behind Lila to make it to the next camp. Men all around them are screaming and running, probably because of the burning buildings – someone almost barrels her over, and she scowls. Luckily, they’re all too freaked out to question why there are two teenage girls scuttling through the trenches without helmets on.

Vanya’s hand is slippery where Lila is gripping it, pulling her forward as she runs ahead.

Eventually they get out onto flat land, and everything is so much louder. War, Vanya decides, is not for her. So _noisy_. Bullets whizz overhead, thunking into trees and bodies, and she feels like one is getting a little too close – she stumbles, and the bullet grazes her shoulder. _Ouch! Shit._

She bites the inside of her cheek and doesn’t say anything. When they reach the next marker, Lila looks back with a wild smile, and despite Vanya’s best efforts, she still spots the blood trickling down her arm.

Her sister freezes. “Are you _kidding_ me?”

She drags Vanya down to the muddy ground, ignoring the gunfire overhead. She carefully places the briefcase between them. They both know what happens if you lose it or break it – you get lost in time. Vanya thinks Mom will come and get them, but Lila says she’s too busy. Vanya does _not_ want to be stuck in this place – it sucks.

“Sorry,” Vanya sighs, reluctantly peeling her hand away from the wound and wincing. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Yeah, you _say_ that, but then you go and pull stuff like this,” Lila says, exasperated. She tugs at the collar of Vanya’s shirt to expose the graze, pulling a face. “You got _shot_?”

“It’s barely a scratch.”

Lila groans, leaning forward to examine the injury. Vanya smiles – even as she complains, her sister’s still looking out for her. “It’s gonna need a couple stitches at least.” She purses her lips. “You’re such a disaster magnet, Van. When did you even manage to get hit?”

“Hmm, let me think.” Vanya hisses in pain when Lila pokes her arm. “Sometime in between _arriving_ in the active war zone, and running across an active battlefield—”

“This is why _you’re_ the sidekick.”

She pouts. She knows that the older girl has a soft spot for her puppy dog eyes. “I’m not the sidekick!”

“Yeah, you are.” Lila gets out her tiny little first-aid kit, that’s really just a needle and thread and a flask. Unfortunately, she doesn’t look up in time to see Vanya’s puppy dog eyes at their most powerful. “This is gonna hurt.”

“Do you have to do it _now_?” Vanya recoils. “Can’t it wait?”

“No. Your arm is going to fall off,” Lila snarks, threading a needle. “Don’t be a baby.”

“You’re only two years older than me, Lila,” Vanya says.

“And you’re the one whose arm is going to fall off.”

Vanya, knowing there’s no use arguing, squeezes her eyes shut and tries not to make anything blow up, as Lila stiches her up. It stings a lot. And it burns even worse when her sister splashes the alcohol over it.

“ _Ow_!” She shrieks. “That hurts, asshole!” Maybe this is revenge for the time Vanya broke Lila’s ankle when she was six.

Lila takes a swig from the flask and then hides it away before Vanya can slap it out of her hands. “There. I saved your arm. Aren’t you grateful?”

“You’re not old enough to drink.”

Lila sighs, and softens a tiny bit. Her gaze flicks over Vanya in a caring sort of way, even though her eyes are ringed with heavy, smoky black makeup – mum says it’s just a phase. It goes with her all-black outfit. “Does it really hurt that badly?”

Vanya thinks about it. “ _Not_ as badly as the time Mom shot me.” She thought she had learnt her lesson from _that_ particular training exercise. Apparently not.

“That’s because the bullet was still inside, that time, and they had to pull it out,” Lila says, ripping up her sleeve to turn into a makeshift bandage. She wraps it around tightly, and Vanya feels tears spring to her eyes. “That feel okay?”

“I guess,” she says, flexing her arm. She sniffs. “And by the way? I’m _not_ your sidekick.”

Lila fishes a bobby pin out of her hair to secure the makeshift dressing. “I’m older than you, and anyway, everyone knows that _I’m_ the brains and you’re—"

“—the Bomb.”

Lila rolls her eyes, tying off the bandage with a quick, practiced motion. “Are you starting a rap career? _Please_ don’t start calling yourself that. I’ll be too embarrassed to be seen with you ever again.”

“Whatever you say, Copycat.” Vanya grins.

“That is _not_ —”

“It _is_ what the agents call you behind your back.”

“You’re making that up.”

“I am not.”

“Ugh!” Lila throws her hands out, shakes her head, and Vanya smiles. “Are we gonna blow this place or are you going to keep whining? I want some food.” She takes Vanya’s smaller hand in her own, and the briefcase in the other.

“ _Whining_?” Vanya gasps. “I’m not!”

Lila frustratedly blows her choppy black hair out of her face. Vanya eyes it jealously – she wants to dye her hair too, but Lila said that’s copying. Lila also had _some_ kind of mental breakdown – in Vanya’s opinion – a year or two ago and lopped all her glorious hair off into a bob and dyed it, which is partially why Vanya has kept growing hers out. Now it almost reaches her waist. “You _always_ do this on missions – be quiet or I’ll tell Mom.”

“No you won’t!”

She’s right – neither of them are snitches. “I’ll replace you,” Lila says, “with a _real_ bomb. I bet some grenades would be easier to drag around than you are.”

“But you’d miss me.”

“No.”

“You’d miss my sparkling personality and conversation—”

“Definitely not.”

Vanya continues, unperturbed, even as Lila tugs her by the wrist and they keep moving, boots sinking into the mud. She’s tired already. “But without me you wouldn’t have any friends.”

“I have friends,” Lila snaps, perhaps a little defensively.

“Not ones who can blow things up,” Vanya says. Her arm hurts. “Hey, do you think I should maybe _bleach_ my hair? Because like, I think a white streak would look really cool _and_ it would go with my powers.”

She’s thinking about starting to wear white clothes too – then she and Lila could be like yin and yang, since Lila insists on dressing like a ninja or something. She thinks her sister will laugh at her if she says that out loud, so she doesn’t. But white could totally be Vanya’s _colour._

“Dyed hair is _my_ thing.” Lila dodges a spray of bullets, ducking behind a tree. “You already plagiarized my bloody accent.”

“Your hair was already black, and you dyed it even more black,” Vanya complains. “That doesn’t even count.”

“It was _dark brown_ ,” Lila argues, “and _now_ it has blue—”

“Blue undertones, yeah, yeah,” Vanya says flippantly. “And I didn’t _plagiarize_ your accent; it’s _normal_ to pick up the accents of the people around you and it’s not my fault you talk so m—”

Lila says, “Shut it!” and starts sprinting, leaving Vanya to try and keep up while being hauled along. It’s not fair – Vanya has short legs.

“Okay, look, just imagine _me_ , but this section is bleached white.” She waves a hand across her head vaguely – it’s hard to describe while running.

“I’m a little busy right now, Van,” Lila says breathlessly, not looking back. “Trying not to get shot, here. Unlike some people.”

“It’s not like I was _trying_ to.”

“Yeah, and yet you still—” Lila dives behind a bale of hay, and Vanya stumbles behind her, “—attract catastrophe.”

From the ground, Vanya groans, her face covered in hay. “I _know.”_

“That’s the building,” Lila whispers. “That one there.” She points and Vanya gets up on her elbows to see – but all the buildings look the same to Vanya.

“Why are you whispering? It’s literally _so_ loud.”

“Shut up already,” Lila gripes. “Can you blow it up from here or what?”

She hums. “Will you help me bleach my hair?”

“Fine, _whatever_ , I’ll help you bleach it when we get home,” Lila says. _YES,_ Vanya thinks triumphantly. “So?”

“Yeah, I can do it,” Vanya says, smirking.

Lila shakes her head, irritated and fond.

_Okay. Showtime._ Vanya closes her eyes and lets the sounds of gunfire, screaming, and explosives overwhelm her, resonating, building and vibrating until her body practically hums with energy. She opens her eyes and sees Lila’s brow furrowed in concentration, mirroring her, until they’re both glowing from the inside.

Lila looks at her with white, glimmering eyes and grins wickedly, squeezing Vanya’s hand. “Ready?”

_Yes._ Vanya nods, and in unison, the girls throw their hands out towards the building and release the white light from inside them with a deafening _boom._ The building explodes into a million pieces – they duck behind the bale of hay while bits of burning wood spray down around them.

They wait a couple of seconds while the yelling of the men is renewed once again. Vanya cringes at the pain in her shoulder – will Mom be disappointed in her? Maybe Lila was right. She _is_ a disaster magnet.

“Mission accomplished. What do you want for dinner?” Lila asks, and Vanya glances up and bursts out laughing. “ _What_?”

“Your hair’s on fire,” she giggles. Carefully, while Lila squirms, she reaches over and pinches the flame out between thumb and forefinger. “There.”

“Does it look singed?” Lila worries, patting her hair down.

“It looks the same as always,” Vanya says diplomatically, eyeing the smoking, uneven cut.

“Wow, thanks,” Lila says sarcastically. “Anyway.” She puts the briefcase gently down between them.

“I want Thai,” Vanya says. She grabs the handle and holds it tightly.

Lila shrugs. “Okay.” She takes one last look around the battle zone and wrinkles her nose. “Ugh. Let’s get out of this dump.” Vanya couldn’t agree more.

With a zap and a pop of blue light, they leave.

…

“Now you have to leave that on,” Lila says strictly, wrapping the plastic bag carefully around the section of hair.

“I don’t like this smell at all,” Vanya declares. “Actually, I hate it.”

“Just leave it,” Lila tells her. She steps back, her socked feet silent against the fancy marble floors.

“For how long?”

“Twenty minutes. I’ll wash it out if you want.”

“Okay.” Vanya considers. It will probably be a few days before Mom comes home; she’s a bit of a _workaholic,_ as the TV shows say. So hopefully if it looks awful, they’ll have time to dye it brown again before she sees it.

Lila looks at her expectantly, a hand on her hip. She raises an eyebrow – Vanya _wishes_ she could do that, but she hasn’t managed yet. Vanya sighs.

“ _Thank you_ , Lila.”

“You’re _so_ welcome, little sis,” Lila says, laughing. Vanya dodges out of a playful hug. While they wait, Lila puts DEVO on and they dance around the living room, spinning until they feel sick.

Twenty minutes later, Lila shoves her head under the faucet and washes out the bleach. She makes an appreciative noise, but makes Vanya keep her eyes shut while she blow-dries it, so that it will be a surprise.

“Okay. You can look now.”

Vanya feels herself being shoved in the direction of the mirror, and cracks her eyes open nervously.

She gasps.

Her hair is still mostly the same brown colour as always, hanging long and straight with her heavy bangs in the front. But the streak of bone-white on her left side is a stark contrast, and runs all the way from the top of her head to her waist, about as wide as three fingers. It’s _perfect._

“I love it!” She turns and hugs Lila tightly, not even embarrassed about it. “Thanks!”

“You don’t look as stupid as I expected,” her sister says begrudgingly. “In fact, it’s almost cool.”

“That’s so nice,” Vanya says happily. “You’re so sweet.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Lila pries Vanya’s arms off of her, but she looks pleased. “We still have some ice-cream. Want some?”

“Hell yes,” Vanya cheers, and follows her into the kitchen. _What a good day,_ she thinks cheerfully, as Lila turns on the TV and they eat salted caramel ice-cream straight from the tub and yell at the action heroes in the movie about their dumb choices. Perfect, even – except for the part where she kinda got shot. But other than that – _perfect._

**Author's Note:**

> this is so dumb and they're so CUTE   
> also, if you liked yesterday's Evil Vanya, I did an illustration for the story on my instagram, bubbly_washing_machine. I would have added it to the fic but that went so badly the last time I tried it so I'm staying away from that forever now so just... go to my instagram to see evil vanya
> 
> anyone got any good ideas for the prompt 'I never should have given you a chance'? your car crash ones were really helpful and I think I know what I'm gonna write.
> 
> Anyway see you tomorrow!! haha I'm so tired


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